


Signs of Affection

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Dark!Fitz, Dubious Ethics, F/M, Injury, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 10:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For this prompt at avengerkink on lj: <br/><i>Something happens and Simmons is badly hurt. Fitz doesn't take it well. At all. Instead he goes on a revenge trip. He is one of the most intelligent people in this world and so his little trip to the dark side is extremely successful and terrifying. I actually would prefer it if Fitz' vigilante act isn't portrayed as something positive, but rather disturbing/bad from every viewpoint.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Signs of Affection

Fitz calls Jemma’s parents to tell them that she’s in a coma. He can hear Jemma’s mother start to cry -- Jemma’s mother, who had welcomed Fitz the first time they met as if he were part of the family, who sent him care packages full of cookies and old books -- and he knows that soon they’ll be at her bedside.

Fitz doesn’t offer any details of how it happened, and they know not to ask.

\--

Fitz lies awake thinking of Jemma lying in her hospital bed, pale, unresponsive. He thinks of the doctors’ hushed conversations; none of them sounded hopeful.

He thinks of the people who did this to her. 

He imagines the most painful way for them to die.

At a certain point, it ceases to be imagination and starts to be a plan.

\--

Officially, SHIELD does not invent weapons capable of targeting individuals at large in the population.

Fitz suspects that Fury has some projects going on somewhere, but that he knows better than to ask someone like Jemma to be a part of it.

Fitz, a day ago, would have felt the same way. 

SHIELD believed that the people who blew up the facility Jemma was in were still in the city. There was a cold going around, and Fitz managed to attach nanotech to the virus. Bioscanners to confirm the identity of the targets, who had been stupid enough to leave DNA to match at the scene. A transmission signal so Fitz could verify the target – no use involving bystanders, of course. And then a trigger to release the nano-bots that would slowly -- _excruciatingly_ slowly – melt their bodies cell by cell.

It took Fitz 4 days to design and test the weapon (working with Jemma, it would have taken 6 hours – virology wasn’t his strong point).

He released it in a public place and waited for news.

A few days later, he was satisfied.

\--

Two weeks later, Jemma woke up. 

She kissed Fitz and told him she was fine, and went to spend a month with her parents to recuperate.

\--

When Jemma came back to work, she was distant. Friendly, still, but distant.

Fitz wondered if it was the injuries, the trauma making her cautious, even around him.

It’s a long time before she brings him to her bed, but he doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t complain.

When she finally does, they come together slowly, Fitz’s hands caressing her body as gently as he can, willing himself not to wince when his fingertips glide over her scars.

She kisses him, wraps her legs around him, and he thinks about how close he came to never feeling this again.

\--

When they’re done, Fitz rests his head on her chest, her hands sifting softly through his hair.

They are silent for a long time.

Finally, Jemma says, “You didn’t erase the gene replicator data.”

Fitz lifts his head, looks up at her. He sees nothing but pain in her eyes.

She continues, “You erased the computer files. But not the data stored directly in the replicator.”

Her disappointment blazed bright, sharp.

“You don’t know what it was like,” Fitz said, voice cracking, “Looking at you. Lying there.”

She grabs his hand, laces her fingers between his. “I understand why. I would be tempted, too. And of course I can’t tell anyone. But… never again, Fitz. We have dangerous jobs, and that’s my fault, that we’re in the field. But no matter what happens to me, you can’t ever do that again. I don’t want that kind of violence done in my name.”

Fitz is silent. He hears the need in her voice, her determination cloaking her horror at what he’s done.

“Promise me, Fitz,” she says, and it’s hard, a demand.

He nods and doesn’t look at her.

“I’m not sorry,” he says.

“You will be. When it hits you,” she says, moving closer, pulling him toward her.

Fitz isn’t so sure. But he leans against her, feels the warmth of her skin, hears the life in her breath, and nothing else matters.


End file.
